


More Than Partners

by Val_Creative



Series: Kinktober/Whumptober/Goretober 2020 [23]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Body Worship, Canon Related, Domestic Fluff, Double Penetration in One Hole, Drowning, Exhaustion, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Goretober, Headaches & Migraines, Humor, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Light-Hearted, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nudity, Past Violence, Romance, Shower Sex, Sleep Deprivation, Tickling, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: He stares admiringly over her like it's the first time.
Relationships: Ichabod Crane/Abbie Mills
Series: Kinktober/Whumptober/Goretober 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949473
Comments: 11
Kudos: 24
Collections: Kinktober 2020, Whumptober 2020





	More Than Partners

**Author's Note:**

> I remember watching the first episode of this show when it aired and I fell in love with Abbie immediately. After a couple more episodes, I loved her and Ichabod and I wanted them to be best friends but also deeply in love like I felt like they were. It took me far too long to write something for them and I apologize. I hope you guys like this. Ichabbie forever!

*

"Now—I do not wish to pry—"

Abbie mocks a smile, eyeing Ichabod from over the police station's laptop. "But you're going to anyway, huh—"

"—you appear exhausted," Ichabod babbles on, pulling up a wooden chair right next to her. Most of everything in Corbin's Cabin is made of wood. Except for the kitchen stove and whatever is in the bathroom. "Have you been sleeping, Leftenant?"

"No," Abbie deadpans. "Some of us have jobs, Crane."

It's another local case that has been stumping the Westchester County Police Department. She's been searching up ghouls, or _"vrykolakas"_ as Ichabod claims they're also called in Greek. All of this weird stuff follows Ichabod. Like a moth to the flame.

(Or maybe he's the dumb and helpless moth.)

Ichabod sniffs, leaning forward and wrinkling his nose. "Might I inquire as to when you last bathed?" he asks.

"No. You may not." Abbie keeps her eyes on her case-document, typing rapidly. After a long, silent moment, and feeling Ichabod's eyes pinned into the side of her skull, a sullen Abbie glances to him. "Last week."

"I was under the impression that this modern age bathed often and daily."

Abbie snorts quietly. "Only if you wanna dry out your skin."

_ "But—" _

Something pain-pulses behind Abbie's eyes. Her vision blurs. Abbie blinks a little, adjusting herself in the other wooden chair. "Crane, look," she sighs, nudging away her laptop in defeat. "If I take the _damn_ shower, will you be happy?"

Ichabod solemnly raises his eyebrows.

"I believe you may find yourself happy as well with that decision," he replies, nodding.

Abbie's fingers pluck at her lilac-colored henley near her armpit. She takes a suspicious whiff.

"Fine," Abbie grumbles, pushing herself onto her feet.

That's when the world tilts completely on its axis. She stumbles, feeling the warmth of Ichabod's hands gripping tightly to her own fingers. Lightheadness sweeps over her. Abbie clears her throat, lowering her gaze and swallowing hard.

"Leftenant?"

"Mhm," she hums, re-focusing her eyes on Ichabod's worried expression. "It's fine already. Quit acting like I'm gonna pass out."

Ichabod draws her in. To be honest, it might be nice to drift off right here while he's holding her. Abbie's eyelids feel heavy. She rests her head against Ichabod's chest, the new, soft fabric of his dress shirt rumpling up against her cheek.

"Yes, well… perhaps I should escort you."

"…To the shower?" Abbie questions, giving him a funny but genuinely smiling look. Ichabod's face and his neck pinkens.

"Was that too forward?"

She lets out a laugh, slinging her arms to Ichabod's neck and kissing him. A simple lip-to-lip touch. They've been doing more than kissing lately, off and on in the cabin, but he seems nervous. Ichabod's thumb flits to her cheek, stroking.

Abbie hoists herself onto her tiptoes. "No," she whispers into another kiss. "It wasn't."

His face relaxes.

"C'mon," Abbie urges him, letting go of Ichabod's neck to pull on a jacket sleeve. He's hemmed it recently. She leads the way to the bathroom, shucking off her henley and watching his reaction. Ichabod's spine erects. Abbie's sure that's not the _only_ thing.

He takes his dear sweet time, easing off his jacket and buttoned shirt. Instinctively turning his back as Abbie unclasps her bra.

She's never had a man act like a gentleman when they knew Abbie would be naked.

Not _once_.

Abbie huffs, smiling widely again, leaving her panties and bra in a heap along with her jeans. She creeps into the shower, half-dragging the plastic curtain behind her. Abbie twists the knobs. "Hey! You're gonna miss the hot water, Crane!" she shouts.

This prompts him to yank back open the shower-curtain. Ichabod hesitates.

No matter how many times he sees her, Abbie is memorized by his reaction. He stares admiringly over her like it's the _first_ time. His last love. 

Ichabod's blue eyes crinkle. She's his other half and his reason to keep fighting for this world.

Abbie soaps up her hair, sending him a exaggeratedly coy wink, laughing louder and squirming when Ichabod's arms wrap around her. The steaming-hot water loosens her muscles. Ichabod's mouth trails over Abbie's brown skin, mapping each lovely curve of heat into his memory. She tickles him on the abdomen, getting his attention and listening to his rumble of her name.

They kiss, basking in the messy nature of it. Abbie's tongue drags wetly on his. She feels the prickle of Ichabod's beard and how his cock stirs with interest against Abbie's side. The arch of Ichabod's fingers as he sinks into her dripping, dark ringlets.

"Touch me," Abbie breathes, guiding his other hand down.

The fierceness in her tone makes Ichabod chuckle, planting tiny kisses to the top of Abbie's head.

She waits for him to thrust lightly, slipping a finger inside her and filling her vaginal walls. It's not enough. "More," Abbie repeats, panting and flattening Ichabod's hand impatiently between her naked legs until he uses another finger. "More, _god_ …"

Abbie gropes along for her entrance, for his fingers pressed inside her, burrowing her little finger alongside them.

Ichabod's cock clenches, huge and throbbing up against Abbie. Its foreskin receding as he hardens up further and that's exactly what Abbie wants. She wants Ichabod to take her, pin her up against the slippery shower wall _and rock both of their worlds_.

(Not that Ichabod would have _any idea_ what she meant by that.)

While half-circling him, Abbie ends up ducking under the shower-water. It hits her nostrils. She chokes, accidentally inhaling and hacking. "Abbie," Ichabod says, nearly panicking. He helps her step out of the water and pulls aside the curtain.

Abbie's body quivers. She remembers the week before—The Weeping Lady, Mary Wells— _that spirit_ born of jealous and rage and loss materialized in the library, yanking Abbie into the mystical black river-hole. She drowned. Abbie remembers every terrified second. Struggling and kicking. Gripped by pair of deathly cold arms. Everything went faint in Abbie's ears.

Even after Nick resuscitated her, Abbie couldn't shake it off. She puked and coughed out murky river-water for an hour. Her throat raw and swollen. Too much acid. Abbie couldn't scrub out the taste of dirt sediment and bile.

"Carefully, carefully now." Ichabod sits her on the edge of the toilet, rubbing Abbie's back. "You are going to be alright."

"Sure," Abbie wheezes, forcing a smile and peeking up, " _Nhn_ —that was bad. I'm sorry for getting you riled up."

He clucks his tongue softly, kneeling in front of Abbie and cradling her hands.

Their fingers intertwine.

"Do not ever feel disgraced for your burdens." Ichabod murmurs, holding his lips to her forehead. " _Share them with me._ That is why I am here. That is why we were brought together to face our perils. I am here with you and you are with me, Abbie."

Her heart flutters.

Abbie conceals a sniffle, freeing a hand to wipe under her nose and looking away. Her dark eyes moisten.

"And here I was thinking you were here to be a continuous pain in my ass…"

"Of course," Ichabod says plainly, grinning.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2020 prompt(s): **Double Penetration In One Hole, Tickling, Shower Sex**  
>  Whumptober 2020 prompt(s): **Exhaustion, Sleep Deprivation**  
>  Goretober 2020 prompt(s): **Drowning**


End file.
